


Style Choice

by chewsdaychillin



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Dialogue-Only, Gen, Haircuts, M/M, Pining, and neglectful hair care, hair asmr, like thats basically it, like transcript format, mentions of elias, mentions of martin's mum, not really canon compliant but very canon typical pining, some self esteem issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-06
Updated: 2020-01-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:00:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22137454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chewsdaychillin/pseuds/chewsdaychillin
Summary: Jon definitely does not keep on top of hair care. Martin thinks he should take better care of it. And he has scissors...
Relationships: Martin Blackwood & Jonathan Sims, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 36
Kudos: 280





	Style Choice

**Author's Note:**

> idk when this is like...... after s3 but s4 isnt going how its going? theyre still speaking and they're in a bathroom somewhere trying to stop a ritual or whatever. does it matter? theyre pining. haircuts are peak romance

INT. BATHROOM – NIGHT

[Tape clicks on.]

[We hear the sound of a tap running, hitting porcelain, and the aggressive brushing of a toothbrush.]

[A soft knocking on an open door.]

MARTIN:  
 _(from across the room)_ Jon?

JON:  
Hmm?

MARTIN:  
 _(Beat. Then, hesitantly--)_ Are you... growing your hair out? 

[The brushing stops.]

JON:  
 _(With a toothbrush in his mouth)_ I mean... it’s growing. 

MARTIN:  
Yeah, I just meant— It’s quite long now, I just wondered if it was a, um… style choice? 

JON:  
Uh. Well. I don’t think rapid keratin production is a power associated with the beholding, so I suppose it’s my decision.

MARTIN:  
So you are growing it out then? On purpose? It’s not... just... 

JON:  
Just? 

MARTIN:  
Well. 

JON:  
 _(Sighs)_ I’ll admit I haven’t been to a barbers in a while. Hasn’t really been a priority what with… _(long exhale)_ everything. Why? _(concerned)_ It doesn’t look bad... does it? 

MARTIN:  
No! No. No it doesn’t look bad at all... _(moving quickly on…)_ No, it doesn’t, I just wondered if... If you’d been meaning to cut it and hadn’t been able to or if you wanted to or... _(falters. Then, with some enthusiasm)_ I have scissors.

[Jon’s toothbrush is placed down on the sink. The tap is turned off.]

JON:  
... You – You’re offering to cut my hair?

MARTIN:  
Yeah. _(more confidently)_ Yeah I am. _(less confidently)_ If you want…

JON:  
You’d do that? I mean – _(half laughs) –_ you can do that? 

MARTIN:  
Yeah. I used to cut my mum’s all the time. And mine. 

[A pause. Jon considers this.]

JON:  
Is it really that bad? 

[The swish of denim. A couple of sock-on-tile footsteps as Martin comes into the room]

MARTIN:  
No, it doesn’t look bad, Jon... it just... I mean, _(tuts, sighs)_ like you said, you just haven’t been taking care of it really, have you? 

[A slight rustle of hair as Jon examines it, defensively shucks it behind his ear.]

JON:  
I have been a bit busy saving the world –

MARTIN:  
Yeah, well. Nothing wrong with a break is there. 

[An enthusiastic snip-snip of scissors in the air. Jon hesitates.]

JON:  
... Now? 

MARTIN:  
… Well. I’m not… doing anything now… I mean you can say ‘no’. 

JON:  
Right. I - I... uh. I don’t need to wash it first or anything? 

MARTIN:  
No I’ll just do it dry, it’s fine. Do you mind? 

[Footsteps shuffle closer.]

JON:  
Uh... no, go...

[The slipping of fingers through dry hair.]

JON:  
( _Very quietly) ..._ ahead... 

[For a moment, we just hear the gentle grazing of fingernails on scalp. Martin’s fingers move from root to tip, pulling Jon’s hair out to its length, turning it over, appraising it.]

JON:  
( _Coughs_ ) I - I don’t see why not.

[Martin drops his hair.]

MARTIN:  
Okay! Great! Let me just get my comb and stuff…

[Martin’s footsteps retreat – then we hear the sound of a zip, rustling through a wash bag.]

MARTIN:  
( _From the other room)_ I’d take an inch off at least. For the ends I mean. 

[The quiet, scratchy rustling of split ends rubbing against each other as Jon considers them.]

JON:  
( _Soft_ ) Right. 

[We hear the scrape of chair legs on carpet from the other room. Then they bump over the tiles.]

MARTIN:  
There.

JON:  
Facing the mirror, or..?

[Loud noise of chair legs.]

MARTIN:  
 _(Overlapping)_ Yeah, yeah. Like the hairdressers.

JON:  
( _small laugh)_ Right.

[Jon sits. He shuffles the chair up to the counter. Martin moves around still, getting everything together.]

MARTIN:  
Towel.

[We hear the flopping of fabric as Martin drapes it roughly around Jon’s neck.]

JON:  
Thank you.

MARTIN:  
Okay. Well, I can do... I mean it’s up you.

[The commotion with the chair is over. Martin is quieter.]

MARTIN:  
What you want. Your style choice. 

JON:  
Uh. Well. _(awkward pause. He is thinking hard)._ What do you think? You’re the expert now. _(small laugh)_ Apparently. 

[Martin hums at this. Then, we hear the scraping of hard plastic through hair. It is rhythmical, slow, but stops every few moments to tug through a stubborn knot.]

JON:  
Genuinely. I - I’d like to know what you think. 

[Soft static...]

MARTIN:  
 _(Groans)_ Don’t _know_ \- 

[The static fades away.]

JON:  
No, sorry. I won’t - I’m just. Asking. _(Soft)_ Just me asking. 

[Martin keeps combing, thinking.]

MARTIN:  
 _(Casually)_ I think you peaked about three months ago.

JON:  
 _(Mock hurt)_ Oh, what, and it’s all been downhill from there?

MARTIN:  
No! No I mean -- 

JON:  
 _(Teasing him)_ There’s only downhill from a peak, Martin...

MARTIN:  
 _(Scoffs)_ I didn’t mean... _(sighs -- serious)_ I meant it as a compliment. 

JON:  
Oh. _(Soft)_ Thank you...

[Quiet combing. The teeth scrape against a particularly stubborn knot--]

JON:  
Ow! 

MARTIN:  
Sorry! 

JON:  
 _Ow!_ Martin! 

MARTIN:  
I’m barely pulling! 

[A hand is slapped away. The comb is pulled free and the knot pulled painstakingly apart with fingernails. Jon sucks a breath in through his teeth.]

MARTIN:  
I thought you were supposed to be invincible now?

JON:   
_(Petulant)_ Still hurts. I can’t believe your mother let you get away with this.

[Quiet. The combing is rhythmical... then stops. Two fingers pinch and slide down hair, stopping before the end and holding still.]

MARTIN:  
I reckon about here? 

[Quiet -- the question hangs as Martin holds the hair taut.]

JON:  
Yeah... well, if you think so. 

MARTIN:  
 _(Gentle push)_ It’s your hair, Jon...

JON:  
I’d like to... It - it’s useful being able to put it up. I’d still like to be able to--

[The stretching sounds of an elastic band. The scratch and twang off it being hastily wrapped around hair. Martin sighs.]

JON:

What? Not good?

MARTIN:  
No, it looks... _(inhales, catching himself.)_ You don’t really tie your hair up with elastic bands do you?

JON:  
What?

MARTIN:  
It’s really bad! You’ll split your hair! 

[The elastic is carefully unwrapped. Martin runs his fingers through Jon’s hair, pulling it down again. A rustling as he rubs the split ends together.]

MARTIN:  
See?

JON:  
Oh, stop fussing --

MARTIN:  
Do you even use conditioner?

JON:  
I... Well it’s two-in-one.

MARTIN:  
Oh come on, if you’re going to grow it out so long you deserve better than that. 

JON _:  
(Scoffs) _I’m not sure about that. _(Slowly)_ I - I don’t know what I deserve anymore.

MARTIN:  
You deserve conditioner.

[Quiet -- a long stroke as the comb passes smoothly from root to tip. Again, a pinching sound as Martin holds it still.]

MARTIN:  
There. That’s long enough?

JON:  
I... uh 

[The soft rasp of fingers on scalp, a swooshing as Martin demonstrates--]

MARTIN:  
You can still get most of it up? 

JON:  
If you think that’s a good idea. 

MARTIN:  
I don’t want you getting cross when I start snipping. I can’t stick it back on.

JON:  
No, it’s fine, I won’t. I promise. I trust you. 

[Martin takes a deep breath before we hear the comb move again. Then, the first snips of the scissors -- clipped and efficient. For a while all we hear is the gently breathing and rhythmical snipping.] 

MARTIN:  
 _(Noticing the tape recorder)_ This’ll make for riveting listening. _(Amused)_ Do you think it wants commentary?

JON:  
I - I, uh. I don’t know. I don’t know why it does that.

MARTIN:  
 _(Hums)_ Look up --

[Jon inhales and holds his breath. A slow closing of the blades through a thick section of hair. Martin hums with satisfaction.]

MARTIN:  
You should get those ones that look like a slinky -- then you don’t get all those weird kinks in your hair.

JON:  
A slinky..?

MARTIN:  
Like -- they’re coiled. My mum used to use them. You know the ones I mean?

JON:  
No, but... I mean I don’t spend much time in Boots.

MARTIN _:  
_ _(Laughs)_ No. A scrunchie would do the same job. 

JON:  
A scrunchie? _(Short laugh)_ Not sure that’s, uh. Work appropriate.

MARTIN:  
A black one.

JON:  
 _(Hmmm)_ Not sure what everyone would make of that.

MARTIN:  
They’d think you’d suddenly decided to take better care of yourself. _(Jon makes a sound of ‘fair enough’.)_ Could get one of those velvet ones. Like in ‘Heathers’.

_(They both laugh)_

JON:  
You’re quite funny when you’re not worrying.

MARTIN:  
And you’re quite nice when you’re sitting still. Just... keep your head there...

[Another thick section falls to the floor.]

JON:  
That’s... _(clearing his throat)_ There’s a lot of hair on the floor, Martin...

MARTIN:  
 _(Sighs)_ You said you wouldn’t get cross.

JON:  
I’m not! I didn’t think you’d be this... fast. Is all.

MARTIN:  
I’m efficient. Keep your head still.

[A few quick upward snips. Martin makes an ‘ugh’ of exasperation.]

MARTIN:  
Jon, you can’t keep moving your head around!

JON:  
Well, you’re very casual with those and they’re sharp!

MARTIN:  
I’m not going to get your neck, I thought you trusted me?

JON:  
I do. Ow, watch my ear!

MARTIN:  
Chill out, Van Gogh!

JON:  
Did your mum ever tell you you get bossy doing this?

MARTIN:  
Oh yeah, and much worse besides, so don’t think that’ll get you anywhere.

[The awkward silence of a joke gone wrong, taken seriously and meaning something entirely else.]

JON:  
Oh. Sorry.

MARTIN:  
Nah it’s alright. Used to it.

[The scissors move again. Martin exhales and tries to move on--]

MARTIN:  
Do you want layers?

JON:  
God… Elias – that --

[The scissors stop.]

JON:  
That’s what he did…

MARTIN:  
Oh Jon, don’t look at that will you?

JON:  
That’s what he said to you, something about her --

MARTIN:  
Please, don’t look at that, don’t go in my head –

JON:  
I – I’m not, sorry, I – I just… realised.

MARTIN:  
I don’t want you to see that.

JON:  
I won’t. I won’t.

[Silence. Martin just keeps cutting.]

JON:  
 _(Quiet)_ I am sorry. Really, I - I should’ve asked.

MARTIN:  
 _(A small scoff)_ You really shouldn’t have. People don’t like it when you ask them things like that.

JON:  
After you I mean. And after her.

MARTIN:  
Yeah. It’s okay, though. _(As Jon sighs)_ Really, it is. Do you want layers?

JON:  
I - what?

MARTIN:  
I don’t know really. I just usually do them -- it’ll look better, less...

JON:  
Like your friend did it for you in the bathroom?

MARTIN:  
Yeah...

JON:  
 _(Through a small smile)_ Go ahead.

[The comb scrapes down the back of Jon’s neck. The scissors now are slow and deliberate.]

JON:  
 _(Very soft)_ You did right by your mum. I mean you did a lot for her 

MARTIN:  
Yeah. 

JON:  
That... uh. That’s very admirable of you. Not admirable... that sounds wrong I – I – I mean I think... _(sighs)_ I think it’s good. You’re a good son. A good person.

MARTIN:  
Oh. _(Small breath)_ How’d you know that then?

JON:  
I don’t _know_ I just… _(exhale)_ I just know. 

[Martin lets out the breath he was holding. His socks shuffle on the tiles as he steps back.]

MARTIN:  
Can you turn around? I need to check the front.

JON:  
Uh, yes. Right.

[The chair legs scrape on the floor as Jon pushes it round. We hear the swish of denim and the sliding of Martin’s feet as he knees down.]

MARTIN:  
Hmm. Stay still.

[They both hold their breath as the scissors close, slowly, carefully, one last time.]

MARTIN:  
There.

[Martin stands up again. The chair bangs the counter as Jon follows him. We hear the comb and scissors hitting the porcelain sink. The whipping sound of the towel as Martin takes it back and shakes it.]

MARTIN:  
What do you think, then?

JON:  
I -- uh. Wow. I think... It looks, I mean I look... normal.

MARTIN:  
It looks _good_.

JON:  
Yeah. _(A rustling and scratching as he feels the back)_ You did a good job.

MARTIN:  
Thanks. I told you that was the peak.

JON:  
Yeah... before it all went downhill.

MARTIN:  
No, I mean... _(sighs)_ Anyway. I’m glad you like it.

JON:  
Thank you.

MARTIN:  
You’re welcome.

JON:  
I mean it.

MARTIN:  
I know.

[A moment of quiet. Then, we hear the sounds of plastic and metal against the sink as Martin gathers his things. The tap squeaks as it is turned on and the water runs.]

MARTIN:  
Jon?

JON:  
Hmm?

MARTIN:  
Tape.

JON:  
Oh. 

[Tape clicks off]

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first go writing audio stuff, i usually write screeplays lol so lemme know what u think :)) pls dont comment s4 spoilers tho lol i havent finished it !!


End file.
